


Fate's Least Favorite

by Akoia, MakeSushissss (Akoia)



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batfamily (DCU), Career Ending Injuries, General Trigger Warning, Hurt Tim Drake, Hurt/Comfort, I wrote this while I was depressed, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scarecrow's Fear Toxin (DCU), Tim Drake Angst, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Torture, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:35:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27614267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akoia/pseuds/Akoia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akoia/pseuds/MakeSushissss
Summary: Red Robin chases a case on his own and reaches his breaking point at the hands of the Scarecrow.---------------"They aren't coming," a hand on his hair. It's dark. It's so dark. "It's just me and you, together."He tried not to cry. He tried.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	Fate's Least Favorite

Tim set a cup of coffee down on his desk and swiped through his tablet, enlarging the CCTV photo and squinting at the blurry photo. The center figure stood a head taller than the other three that surrounded him. Hands in the pocket of his hand-tailored suit. He looked so out of place with the filthy sackcloth mask thrown over his head. Tim bit his thumbnail and narrowed his eyes at the screen. He tapped his finger on the face of one of the men and fired up the facial recognition software he and Oracle had installed. Several faces slid to the front matching the man's general form. Nine possible matches, but only three of them were known to associate with Scarecrow. So he separated the faces into two files. Unknowns, and knowns. He did the same for the other two men and blinked when he was able to get a positive identification. 

He transmitted the tablet to the computers on the desk. He honestly hadn't expected to get a ping so quickly. He leaned back in his chair, finishing off his drink, watching the words scrolling across the screen. He smirked when the picture popped up. Michel 'Mad Dog' McGilligan. And _boy_ did he have a record. Assault, robberies, battery, three murder charges were dropped. At the insistence of Oswald Cobblepot's _personal_ lawyer. Tim's eyebrows scrunched together. McGilligan was a close associate to Cobblepot, so what was he doing with Scarecrow? Was it a team-up, or a betrayal? There hadn't been any chatter one way or the other. Tim sighed and pushed away from his computer. He looked at his clock. Three-fifteen, still plenty of time before the sun was up. He spun around and jumped to his feet and stretched his arms above his head. He'd been sitting in the same position for hours. He winced at the cracking of his spine.

His costume was thrown over the back of his living room chair. He changed quickly and sighed when he only found one of his boots under the fold-out table. He walked around the apartment and found it in his clothes hamper. When he was dressed and grabbed one more quick cup of coffee and threw his cowl over his head. He had to wiggle the broken window open and climbed out onto the ledge of the building. He looked down at the city lights below him and smirked, spreading his arms wide and letting himself fall over the side. His body flipped twice, and he was falling headfirst toward the shocked people below him. He spun around and grabbed his grappling gun, shooting it out at the water tower. The tension pulled at his arm and he went sailing over the heads of the people who were pointing their camera phones at him. He gave a two-fingered salute to a woman who was drunkenly cheered him on, waving her arms in the way. He pulled up and went soaring back into the air. He landed in a crouch on the roof of the water building and sprang forward, running as fast as he could to the edge, jumping off with a powerful kick of his legs. His arms circled in the air and he rolled onto his back, springing onto his feet. Propelling from building to building, Red Robin flew through the night. 

At one point, he thought he saw a hint of red, black, and green, but paid it no mind. He couldn't let his mind be anywhere else but with Michel McGilligan. No time for 'family' drama. He landed in the alley where the meeting had taken place. He pressed a button on his cowl and the eyes lit up faint yellow. Turning his head from side to side, he could map out the footprints of the men who'd been there just twenty minutes before. He scanned the area carefully and grabbed a cigarette butt and put it in an evidence bag. There was a handprint on a pile of wood, shadowed by the faint outline of gun powder. He took a picture, already uploading it to his system to test for prints. He mentally tried to remember every shooting that had taken place that night. There were...dozens. But only three in the places where Scarecrow was known to frequent. Six in the areas where Cobblepot usually ran his operations. He had the system mark every location on his navigator. 

He took a few more minutes to make sure he didn't miss anything before he started focusing on the footprints. They all came and left in the same direction, so they were together at all times. Maybe they'd stopped for a break after doing...whatever it was they were up to. He had his system replay the CCTV footage. They'd stood and talked for ten minutes. Before Scarecrow had led the group away out the alley. Tim turned it off and followed their footsteps. They split off, two and two, going opposite directions. He took pictures of the footprints. Two men's size nine, one size eight, and one size twelve. Scarecrow was much taller than his companions, so it was likely that he was the larger feet, heading south. 

Tim jumped when his com crackled. He pressed his fingers against his ear. "Red Robin," he said, climbing up the side of a wall so he was out of sight.

 _"What do you think you're doing, Replacement?!"_ A harsh voice snapped at him. Tim rolled his eyes, Jason was so predictable. _"You're in my territory, what are you doing here?"_

Tim smirked and sat on the ledge of a building. "Well _someone_ hasn't been paying attention," Tim said. "Maybe I found something. Something big."

 _"Well, spill it!"_ Jason sounded mildly excited.

"Sorry? What was that?" Tim asked. "You're breaking up, I can't hear you." He turned his com off and stood up. Which way to go first? Scarecrow or Cobblepot? Well...one was more likely to kill innocent people. Cobblepot was fairly predictable. Easy to take down, something Tim wouldn't mind leaving for Robin to clean up. He got another call on his closed com. Tim grumbled but answered. Jason would just keep bothering him if he didn't. "Yes?!" He snapped. 

" _Spill, Red,"_ Jason said. " _Come on, this is my neck of the woods. What did you find? Don't make me come and wring your neck to get it out of you."_

He could give the case to Jason and go back home, but Tim was sure that he'd rather die. But still, two heads were better than one. Jason could handle Cobblepot. "I saw a few of Cobblepots goons standing around for a smoke break. I investigated the area. Gun powder. Probably a shooting. I'll send you the locations." Tim sent Jason the locations on Cobblepot's territory. "You might want to run it by the Bat before you go in guns ablaze." 

" _Fuck that,"_ Jason said and hung up. Tim heard a motorcycle roar to life down the alley. So Jason had been closer than he thought. 

Tim shrugged and decided just to follow Scarecrow. Jason would no doubt be back with a wealth of new information and demanding answers. Which Tim would be happy to supply as soon as he was finished following up with Scarecrows men. So Tim launched his body off the building over onto the next and followed the footsteps. He had to move fast, they were starting to disappear. He ran faster than he had in most of his life, dodging obstacles at a hair's width. They stopped in front of a warehouse. Nothing about the building was suspicious. But Tim used his thermal sensors and saw that there were about a dozen men in the building, as well as one man strapped down to a chair. And Scarecrow seemed to be addressing his men. So Tim jumped on the roof and hopped onto the railing in front of a window. There was a hostage, hooked up to an IV. Tim winced, nothing good was in that bag, but it looked like the man was mostly unharmed at that moment. 

Tim counted heads. Exactly fourteen people, not counting Scarecrow. Four men had automatic weapons, the rest had bats, crowbars, simple weapons. It would be a close fight. He was bitter but knew he was going to need backup. He turned on his com and flipped through the channels until he found the right one. "Roll call," Tim said. "Anyone available for a non-emergency code 2?" 

_"Code 2?!"_ Jason yelled. " _You mother fucker! I knew you were hiding something!"_

 _"Hood, stop,"_ Dick said. " _Sorry Red, I'm dealing with a Code 7 in Bludhaven."_

 _"Not home,"_ Cassandra answered. _"Be safe."  
_

 _"No,"_ Tim answered with a grin. 

_"Robin and I have a Code J-3, we're unavailable."_

_"How many hostiles are there?"_ Batman asked. 

_"Fourteen and Scarecrow. One hostage,"_ Tim said. He took a deep breath. Scarecrow was starting to pay attention to the hostage, running his fingers through the man's black hair. _"Immediate action required. Hostage is Code 9."_

" _No! Turn your location on, Red Robin,"_ Batman ordered. _"Oracle, transmit his location to the GCPD. Red Robin, you are_ not _to engage alone! Do you understand me?!"_

Tim looked at the man, who was terrified of the bastard taunting him. If Tim didn't act, it would be too late. "That's a negative, Batman. Red Robin engaging hostiles." He shut his com down, completely shutting it down. He ripped open the breaker box and cut the power. Then he slammed his body into the window, breaking the glass. With his thermal sensors, he could see everyone in the building looking around in confusion. Tim dropped and punched a man in the throat. He went down with a scream, clutching his neck. The men with guns turned on their flashlights, trying to aim at him. Tim flipped backward in several hand back springs and pulled out his bo staff. He grinned, tightening his fingers around the metal. He threw a few Batarangs he'd 'borrowed' and freed the prisoner, who ripped the IV out of his arm and ran for the door. Tim smacked Scarecrow in the face when he tried to grab the man. He escaped, and Tim let out a breath of relief before facing his enemies.

He counted them and his eyebrows scrunched together when he saw one was missing. He spun around and caught a baseball bot to the safe. He fell and two men grabbed his arms and wrestled him to the ground, slamming his face into the concrete. Tim grunted, trying to throw them off. Another man grabbed his feet and tied them with chains. 

"Well, boys...I've never seen a volunteer so eager," Scarecrow said, dusting off his suit. "Wonderful of you to join us, Red Robin, though it was rather rude of you to drop in without an invitation. No matter," the rouge shrugged and picked up the IV and set it upright. "Get him in the chair," Scarecrow ordered. 

"No!" Tim screamed, thrashing in the men's arms. They manhandled him into the chair, strapping his arms down to the armrests with ropes. Tim bit the hand of a man who was trying to strap his head into the chair. The man pulled his hand back and slammed his hand into Tim's jaw. Tim gasped, and a tooth fell out, along with blood and spit. 

" _Gentle,"_ Scarecrow chastised. He chuckled darkly and gently touched the side of Tim's face. "This is surprisingly stupid of you, Red Robin, coming here without help." 

"Help is on the way!" Tim snapped. 

"Oh, is it?" Scarecrow asked. He pulled Tim's cowl over his head and threw it on the ground. He ran his fingers over the domino mask that kept Tim's face hidden. He pulled off Tim's ear com and clicked it on, holding it up to his ear. He waited, tilting his head from side to side. "I'm sorry, Batman, Red Robin is unable to answer your call at the moment. He's currently..." Scarecrow chuckled and snapped his fingers. A man with a bat brought it down onto Tim's hand. Tim screamed, feeling the bones in his fingers splinter and break. "...Occupied. An invitation to the funeral would be nice." Then he threw the com to the ground and kicked it toward Tim's chair. 

Scarecrow grabbed a fistful of Tim's hair and yanked his head to the side. Tim glared at him and Scarecrow shook his head. "Get the camera," he said. One of the men hurried to grab a bag that was placed somewhere behind Tim. He set up a tripod, tipping it over twice before he got it steady, setting a camera on top. Scarecrow walked in front of it and turned it on, aiming it at Tim. "Tell me, Red Robin, when you first dawned your mask and cape, did you imagine this was going to be how it ended?" 

"Fuck you", Tim snarled, he groaned in pain when his fingers twitched. 

Scarecrow chuckled and walked to his victim, running his fingers casually over Tim's shoulders. "Now, I have something special for you," he said. "But I'm not sure if we should skip right to the main course. How about a little appetizer." He snapped his fingers and gestured to Tim. "I want him conscious, mind yourselves." 

"Sure thing, boss," one man said, running his fingers greedily over his bat. His muscles tightened and he swung it down onto Tim's knee. The vigilante choked, a high pitched whine coming from his throat, before vomiting all over the front of his suit. There was another blow to his shoulder. The back. Brass knuckles busting open his cheek. The fourteen men all took their turns beating him. 

Scarecrow held his hand up and the beating stopped, one man's bat an inch away from Tim's chest. "How old are you Red Robin?" He asked, standing casually at his side. "And before you answer something sarcastic unless you want to die of an overdose of my new concoction, I suggest you answer honestly. Your brain might not be able to handle the dose otherwise. You'll simply seize and die foaming at the mouth." 

Tim had to pop his jaw back into place to speak. "Eighteen," he answered, before groaning and letting his body slump in his restraints. 

"Oh! I thought for sure you were older," Scarecrow said. He adjusted something in the IV bag and Tim started to thrash when he felt something awful leaking into his veins. "Now stop that, there'll be plenty of time for screaming. The night is young." 

"No!" Tim screamed when his vision began to warp. His heartbeat in his chest like a drum while his anxiety spiked. "No! Stop! Please stop! They'll come for me! They'll-" 

" _Shhhh,"_ Scarecrow whispered in his ear. "Oh, my poor, sweet, child." There was a hand in his hair, stroking gently. Tim's eyes shot around the room. The men were morphing into hideous monsters with sharp teeth, ready to rip him to shreds. He felt like his skin was starting to melt off. Scarecrow undid his tie and gently tied it around Tim's eyes. 

The visions were bad. The darkness was much, _much_ worse. "No! Stop! Stop!" He screamed. The warm hands in his hair felt like claws digging into his blistering flesh. He was on _fire!_ He was positive. He felt the sackcloth brush against his hair. "They aren't coming," a hand on his hair. _It's dark_. It's so dark. "It's just me and you, together." 

He tried not to cry. He tried. Then the torture really started. Tim raised his head to the roof and screamed. He screamed for what felt like hours. He screamed until his voice broke. Then he continued screaming until a belt was shoved in his mouth. That night, Tim Drake died, and in his place was a soulless husk that knew nothing but pain. 

* * *

Batman grabbed Robin's com when the screaming started. The boy looked at him with wide eyes. Batman had to ignore him, the screaming, and the horrified yelling of the others on the coms. He tracked Red Robin's suit location and gulped. It would take him and Robin three hours to get to him. And _they_ were the closest. "Hood, you're the closest to us, meet us at the location I'm sending you," Batman said. "Robin...return to the cave and prep the med bay for a Code 9-B...but tell A to prep for a possible Code 9-D." 

Robin opened his mouth to argue but stopped when another bloodcurdling scream came from the coms. Loud enough that Robin could hear it from the earpiece in Batman's hand. Batman curled his fingers around the tech. He handed it back to Robin but ordered him not to listen in on the channel where Red Robin was screaming. Robin turned and ran, launching his grapple to a building and flipping away, moving as fast as his body could move. 

_"I'm coming too!"_ Nightwing said, he grunted, and it sounded like he left confused rouges behind.

"You won't get there in time," Batman said. "All units, finish what you're doing then return to base. As soon as Red Robin is safe, we're going after Scarecrow."

 _"Damn right we are,"_ Jason snarled, his motorcycle roaring in the background, angry horns honking. 

Batman ran and glided through the freezing Gotham air. The screaming didn't stop. Nightwing and Black Bat changed their channels. Batman didn't blame them. He wished he could turn it off. He wished he didn't hear the begging, the laughter. It was at the top of the second hour when he heard _disgusting_ grunts of pleasure from Scarecrow _and_ his men. The screaming was muffled, possibly something preventing Red Robin from screaming.

Red Hood was swearing, cursing the men, threatening death and dismemberment. And for once, Batman couldn't scold his wayward apprentice for his violent talk. He'd never allow Hood to kill a single one of those men, but he might turn a blind eye if Hood felt the need to make sure those men could hurt another person like they were to Tim at that moment. 

_"You're so cute when you beg for mercy,"_ one man said, before sharing a laugh with his cohorts.

He and Hood landed on the roof of the building at the same time. His hands were balled into fists and his breathing was ragged. Even at double time, it had still taken them Two hours and forty-seven minutes to reach the warehouse on the edge of Gotham City's docks. By that point, the screaming had stopped, and Batman genuinely feared the worst. He'd lost another son. He'd failed once more but someone else was paying the price. 

He sprayed exploding jelly on the roof and detonated a hole big enough for them to get through. They landed in the middle of the building. But none of the goons were there and Scarecrow was nowhere to be found. Tim was laid out naked on the ground. He looked dead, but a shallow rise and fall to his chest set his worst fears to rest. Batman ran to his side and dropped to his knees. Red Robin's uniform was in shredded pieces around them. On the chair, across the room, leaving the vigilante with nothing but his mask and a single sock. First, Batman checked Red's ABCs and when he was sure that Tim wasn't about to die if he was touched, he picked him up. The Batmobile was still five miles away, but it would be there in less than sixty seconds. 

"Fuck," Hood said. Batman looked at him and Hood gestured to a camera that was still recording. And behind the chair and IV that had been used to torture Red Robin was a computer that showed the live broadcast where thousands of people were still watching. Batman closed the laptop and ordered Hood to turn the camera off and take it with them. 

Batman heard the Batmobile outside and held Red Robin close to him. He groaned, whimpering, a soft 'please' leaving his bruised lips before he fell back into unconsciousness. He laid Red Robin down in the secure back, strapping him in securely so none of his broken bones shifted. He climbed into the front and watched Hood ride off on his bike. He'd just follow Hood. 

Everyone who could, was already in the cave. Everyone but Damian, who had no doubt been sent to do some task by Alfred. Dick and Alfred rushed over when the Batmobile pulled into the cave. Bruce opened the top and opened the door. He gently lifted Tim into his arms and walked him to the bed that had been set up for him. He and Alfred started to strap Tim down while Dick prepared the morphine. Tim's eyes snapped open, and he started screaming. The pain, the straps, the needle that was being slid into his skin. Bruce knew he was terrified and gestured for Jason to bring him a syringe that was laying on the medical table, just out of reach. 

" _No!"_ Tim screamed, unable to trash. His bones were broken, the skin around them swollen. "No, please, no, no, no-" He sobbed. Jason brought the syringe and with Bruce's prompting, he slid the needle into Tim's thigh muscles. Tim started going slack, his pleas slurring and falling into unhappy mumbles. 

"It's okay, baby bird," Dick whispered. He was on his knees, by Tim's head, running his fingers gently through Tim's matted black hair. "You're safe, we'll keep you safe."


End file.
